


A Light In The Darkness

by purplemayhem



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Dead Parents, Fluff, Lots Of Angst On Reader's Part, Moral Dilemmas, My First Work in This Fandom, Prequel, Psychological Trauma, Reader Is A Black Sky Child, Reader Went To College With Wesley Because Yes, Some Romantic Moments If You Squint, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, mostly friendship fluff, some angst i guess, split personality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 16:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplemayhem/pseuds/purplemayhem
Summary: As a small child, you believed the world to be pure and perfect. When your best friend got hit by a truck and blinded – a hero, you called him after the fact, but never to his face – you realized you were wrong. The world was not all white, not all pure. It was grey and muggy and terrifying, with shadows around every corner. But even in that perpetual darkness, he never failed to provide you with the light you needed to survive, to persevere. Even if you never told him about it.Matt Murdock x Reader. Set before the beginning of Daredevil, starting before Matt is blinded and ending right before the series starts.





	1. 1. First

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work on this site, so I hope it's not terribly bad! This is a prequel to another fic I'm writing, so it's mostly here to explain certain things that come up in the main story. Also because Matt needs good things in his life and Reader is just the thing to brighten up his childhood~ Fair warning though, angst ahead. You may get triggered. Please proceed with caution.

You were the first friend he ever made.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely true. Matt Murdock had friends, it was difficult to dislike a kid that polite and kind. Yet none of the people he talked to on a regular basis – Hell’s Kitchen was relatively small, everyone knew each-other – could be considered an honest-to-goodness friend, at least not in Matt’s mind. They were nice people, sure, but he never felt like he belonged anywhere.

Then there were the bullies. In a neighborhood as gloomy and dark as Hell’s Kitchen, there were always kids that lived to cause trouble. And Matt was a prime target for abuse, what with his refusal to fight back to matter what happened to him – and the fact that his father was a boxer that never won a match. Yeah, they used that one a lot. Son of No-Good Battlin’ Jack. Matt took it all and walked away with his head held high, resolve in his father never faltering. Or so he convinced himself.

That’s when you came in.

“Oi, quit it you jackass!” He heard you before he saw you, in jean shorts and one-size-too-large T-shirt, sitting on a fence eating an apple like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

After a momentary surprised pause, the taller boy sneered. “Scram, kid. This has nothing to do with you.” His fist tightened around the collar of Matt’s shirt.

Matt took that moment to take in your appearance. He had never seen you around before, he certainly would have remembered you if he did, and that in itself was pretty odd. You couldn’t have been more than seven years old – the same age as him, he realized – and yet you had such an adult air about you.

Well, at least you did, until you threw what remained of your half-eaten apple at the bully’s head. “You scram! You look about as tough as a cucumber, let the kid go.”

And let go he did, though only to lunge at you. In the ensuing fight, which Matt tried desperately to break up for your sake, everyone ended up with a black eye or a bruise, but you hit the guy right between the legs and claimed the match a victory as you dragged a very confused Matt away from the fallen, swearing body.

When you were both a good distance away from the scene, you finally turned around and released the hold on his sleeve. “That was a hoot!” Your smile was infectious, even if Matt was quite sure you were absolutely and utterly insane. “I’m new here, by the way, just moved in… three hours ago?” You didn’t have a watch, but feigned looking at your wrist anyway. “Wanna be friends?”

You were the very first real friend he’d made, and Matt Murdock could never have been more grateful.


	2. 2. Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And just like that, the world shatters.

“That last question on the quiz was bogus.” You complained, rather loudly, to your now nine-year-old best friend. In the years following your first meeting – years? It felt like mere days to you. – you had gotten to know the strange child that was Matthew Murdock better than most. Now when older kids came to pick on him because his dad lost another match, they had an extra small ball of rage to deal with. And boy did you know how to fight. Matt never did – his father wouldn’t have wanted him to, he said – so you did it for him. Needless to say, your reputation had not exactly been unaffected by it.  


But it didn’t matter. Matty was safe and happy, if the lopsided grin he was spotting at that moment was anything to judge by, and you were quite content with having one really good friend. It was enough.  


Matt simply smiled at your whining, used to it by now, and shifted the bags he was carrying on his shoulders – one on each. After the most recent run-in with some bully that decided to pick on Matt – during which you had succeeded in not only intimidating the fellow off by biting him hard enough to leave a mark, but also in earning yourself a split lip and several dark imprints on your back – the boy decided to take it upon himself to carry your bag. It was a silent thank-you for standing up for him, you knew, and you accepted the gesture gratefully.

“You know,” Matt smiled at you as you stopped at a crosswalk to wait for the light to turn green. “Maybe next time you should actually come to my house to study instead of staring at your textbook for fifteen minutes then deciding to watch a movie instead.”

You groaned, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “Oh, come on! I didn’t do that badly. Besides, it’s Maths, who really needs—Matty, where are you going!?”

But he wasn’t listening. The bags he had been holding had already plummeted to the ground and Matt Murdock was already running at full speed towards the poor, unsuspecting blind man on the road – a knight, minus the shining armor. You hadn’t even noticed him, but of course Matt did. Matt noticed everyone that needed help. It was the kind of person he was.

Tired screeched, a woman screamed, and you were running through the street too, bruises and split lip be damned. Before you knew it, the old man was out of the way, lying on the ground, and your friend – oh Matt, why did you have to be so kind-hearted? – was hit instead. You slipped on something as you ran, fell flat on your face, realized that you were covered from head to toe with something green and yucky and horribly smelly, but didn’t care because you needed to go get Matt, you had to find Matt, Matt, Matt—

Someone moaned your name weakly, and you turned your head.

Lying there, in the rubble of her pretty white car, was your mother. The ground around her was pure crimson.

You screamed.


	3. 3. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting for Matt to wake up from the accident was pure hell. Waiting for your mother to wake up - she didn't - was even worse.

You knew that you would remember the next hours for the rest of your life, even before they actually happened. Your mother’s dying face burned behind your eyelids every time you dared close your eyes, so you had foregone the blissful oblivion of sleep in favor of staring blankly at the wall of Matt’s room, unblinking and unmoving.

Your injuries were deemed minor, which surprised a lot of the doctors because they could have sworn you had rather extensive injuries when you came in. Yet with the scans showing exactly nothing in terms of damage, they were forced to allow you to move about the hospital. Had you been paying attention, you would have realized that even the bruises you obtained from your earlier encounter in school were gone, but you were far too shell shocked to notice or care.

Your mother was in critical condition, undergoing surgery. They didn’t think she was going to make it.

Somewhere deep inside, you knew she wouldn’t. You just knew.

Matt was alive though, and you did your best to focus on that thought, that one sliver of sanity you had left to cling to. Matt was alive. Blinded, but alive. He would be okay. Everything would be okay.

You didn’t allow yourself to cry when he woke up – again – and for a moment couldn’t remember what happened, or why he couldn’t see.  
“It’s okay, it’s okay Matty.” You muttered, as his dad tried to soothe him, more to yourself than to him since you weren’t even sure he could hear you right now. You held his hand anyway, and he squeezed back with more force than you thought he possessed.

“Everything is so loud.” He told you and Jack when he’s had time to adjust to the darkness that now made up his world.

You immediately shot out of your seat. “I will make them all shut up.” A big claim for a nine-year-old, but you were feeling so useless sitting here that you were willing to try anything, do anything, to be any kind of helpful to someone.

Matt’s hand tugging on your own – he still hadn’t let go – brought you back to reality. “Please don’t. You’ll get hurt. C-Can you just stay here and talk to me?” His voice was so small. You didn’t have it in you to say no to him.

You didn’t notice the doctor come in during your (mostly one-sided) conversation with Matt, and you didn’t notice Jack leave the room either. It wasn’t until he came back, white as a sheet and looking even more worn out than before - you didn’t think that was possible - that you realized that something was wrong.

“Listen, kiddo, I have something to tell you.” The man started, and instinctively you clung on to Matt’s hand for support. It had to be bad, if it had a Murdock looking that worried. “Your mom’s, uh… I’m afraid she didn’t make it through the operation.”

That was when you started bawling.


	4. 4. Holding Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't a charity case. You didn't see him as one, either.

In the months following the accident, you held his hand for the first time. To be honest, it wasn’t the first time – you had taken his arm before to drag him somewhere, or because you were cold and wanted to huddle closer to him – but it was the first time you held his hand, actually held it, in a way that might imply to someone that you were together and involved in a way more intimate than just childhood friends.

He hated it.

For starters, he hated the fact that he couldn’t see it. He could hear the murmurs of the people around you as you walked down the street, hand in hand, and what he heard gave him butterflies deep in the pit of his stomach. ‘What a cute couple’, they said, and he never wanted to see anything more than what they were seeing, if only for a few seconds.

But what he hated the most was the fact that you weren’t holding his hand because you wanted to, but rather because you had to. He was blind, you were leading him, and the majority of the people around you – the ones that weren’t too busy cooing over how cute you were – knew exactly what happened to him. Such was the curse of living in an area as small as Hell’s Kitchen. Rumors traveled around quick and at this point Matt would forever be remembered by all the locals as ‘the kid that got blinded while saving an old man’s life’. The people who knew – so, virtually everyone – looked at Matt holding hands with a pretty girl, and they knew exactly what was going on.

Matt hated being a charity case.

Which is why, when you looped your arm around his and reached for his palm, he recoiled immediately, not quite pushing you away but stepping just far away to show that he didn’t find the contact desirable or needed. Even without his enhanced senses, he would not have wanted to end up being taken care by you. He was not weak. He did not need pity.

“Matty?” You tilted your head to the side as you often did when you were confused, and he breathed a small sigh of relief at the absence of hurt in your voice. You were not hurt by his actions, just confused and more than a little worried. “Are you okay? Are you hurting someone?”

“I’m—I’m fine.” The stutter didn’t help his point, but he wasn’t used to denying you anything. Yet he persevered, because he needed you to understand. He was not going to be your pitiable friend that you hung out with because he couldn’t take care of himself. His pride wouldn’t allow him.

Judging by the shift in your stance, you had placed your hands on your hips in the same position you had seen your mom adopt many times when she was scolding someone. “Is that so? Because you do not look okay from where I’m standing.”

The mothering tone you adopted did not help his already wounded self-esteem. “I don’t need your help, okay!? You are not my mother!” He hissed out between his teeth, desperately trying to keep himself from yelling. He thanked the Lord Almighty that his father was not home at that time.

He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Unable to see your face to gauge your reaction, he focused on his hearing. He heard the soft surprised breath that escaped your lips, the soft shuffle of a small boot against wooden surface – your foot moving an inch or so as you step back from him – and the way you ran the fabric of your overly-long sleeves between your fingers as you often did when you were nervous. Yet your heart remained steady, almost forcefully so, and judging by your deepened breaths, you were keeping it that way on purpose.

“I’m sorry that you see me that way.” You spoke at last, your voice even and low, devoid of emotion. Matt wondered when you learned to do that – control your emotions. He hadn’t noticed.

“No, I just—That’s not what it is. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take my anger out on you.” He sensed your intention to leave before you manage to carry the action through and launched into an explanation. He really didn’t mean it, and now that he thought about it, he really was sorry. You had just lost your mother. It was the kind of thing a douchebag would say, and Jack Murdock didn’t raise no douchebag.  


There was more shuffling of shoes against wood, and then the bed he was sitting on dipped slightly to accommodate the weight of another small body on it. You sat down next to him, keeping a respectable distance yet willing to listen to him. “What’s wrong, Matty?” You prompt softly when he says nothing for a few moments.

“I don’t need you to lead me.” Matt replied after another long pause, adjusting his glasses awkwardly on the bridge of his nose even though they were perfectly fine before. “I can walk just fine, I don’t need your—”  


“Pity?” You interrupted him, stealing the last word of his sentence before he could say it. Your voice was colored with indignation, but also with a slight tinge of amusement, and Matt honestly couldn’t figure out where you were heading with that. “I don’t pity you, Matthew.” The use of his full name throws him off. “I hold your hand because you’re my friend, and because I want to.”

“Really?” He honestly couldn’t believe it. He knew you weren’t lying, could tell as much from the steady beating of your heart, but he felt like he should ask anyway. Just to make sure.

You laughed. “Of course, Matty. Why would an amazing lass like myself hang out with a boring nerd like you unless I wanted to?” You stuck your tongue out at him and bumped his shoulder with yours.  
He laughed too, all of a sudden feeling like a pile of bricks was lifted off his shoulders. He could bear the pity of the strangers that surrounded him every day, as long as you still looked at him as a whole person, not a blind boy with no parents. “I’ve been asking myself that question for years now.”

He was the one to take your hand that time. “Shall we?”


	5. 5. Lying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew you were lying, but said nothing.

Going back to regular life was hard for everyone involved. Jack tried to stay home as much as possible in order to help his son get used to his new life, completely unaware of the fact that Matt didn’t need help. Yet eventually adult life demanded he go back to work in order to pay the bills, Matt went back to school, started learning Braille, continued cheering on his dad from the living room. You made sure to visit him as often as you could, and he continued to look forward to those visits like he did before the accident. Things were back to relative normality.

Meanwhile you were facing a straight-up crisis. 

With your mother dead and your father nowhere to be found, you were left an orphan without means of sustaining yourself, and therefore were forced to move into an orphanage run by a local church. You had thought on more than one occasion to ask Jack to adopt you so you could get out of that horrible place, but ended up discarding the idea with disgust. The man had his own burdens to bear and his own son to raise, and just because you were friends with his Matty didn’t make you his family. Besides, you didn’t want to be an inconvenience. Again.

It was your fault, you told yourself over and over again. That morning you and your mother got into an argument about how she always worked and never came home on time. That day, she was in her car because you made her promise she would be home for supper that night. It was your fault. You were selfish.

The orphanage was miserable and lonely, but worse still was the gnawing of your own mind, telling you exactly how fantastically horrible a human being you were. Disgusting. Pathetic. Useless. It would be better if you were dead.

“Hey, are you okay?” Matt asked one day, placing a hand over yours. You had been quiet for almost ten minutes, which was unusual in itself, but it was the rapid beating of your heart that concerned him. Of course, he couldn’t tell you that. “You look pale.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m just thinking, is all…” It took you a moment to fully process what he just said. “Hey! You can’t see what I look like!”

“Nope, but you just proved me right.” Matt pointed out with a smile. “Now are you going to tell me what’s actually wrong or do we have to walk around it in circles all night?”

The fact that he seemed to know when you were lying lately scared you. He was still your best friend, he always would be, but what were you supposed to say? ‘Yeah, I have survival guilt and it should have been me who died that day instead of my mother?’ He wouldn’t understand. 

So you shook your head and grinned back at him the best you could, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see it. “I’m fine, Matty, stop being such a worrywart. It’s just an adjustment phase, it’ll get better in no time, you’ll see!”

He knew you were lying, but said nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments/suggestions/pointing out of inconsistencies are always appreciated! <3


End file.
